Spring Break
by palmtreedragons
Summary: Arthur and his buddies had the house all to themselves for a few days. But then Morgana just had to invite Gwen and that one nerd over, too.
1. Spring Break

**Excuses, excuses. . . .**

 **So sorry for not updating you guys! School's been pretty chaotic this week. And just to throw a wrench in my plans—I GOT A HEAD COLD! AAAAGGHH!**

 **And I've been trying to write this Halloween fic, but I've written the beginning like a bajillion times. So mapletreedragon suggested a drabble idea for me to get my brain juices flowing, and this happened.**

 **Note: This storied will be continued if YOU guys read/review :D**

 **Another long A/N, I know, but one last thing:**

 **Should've said this about my other fics, but I do not own these characters or series, sadly.**

 **Peace!**

 **~palmtreedragon**

* * *

Arthur was angry, to say the least. And it was all Morgana's fault.

Arthur, upon hearing that his father would be gone for most of Spring Break (honestly, with two teenagers, when's a worse time to schedule a business trip?), quickly contacted all of his friends.

 **PARTY. MY HOUSE. SAT-TUES**

He and his Knights had it all planned out. Morgana would be only a minor setback, but she would probably be forced out of the house by the overwhelming level of testosterone.

At least, Arthur thought she would.

"I'm going to invite my friends over for the weekend, too." Little, stubborn, cunning Morgana stood, arms crossed and eyes glaring, daring Arthur to defy her. They held an unspoken warning: one word, and I call father.

So Arthur was forced to oblige. Relaying this message to his friends the last day before break, they seemed, if anything, more excited for the weekend.

"So what, Morgana brings over a few friends?" Lancelot had asked, mildly confused.

"This seems the total opposite of a problem," Gwaine chirped. Arthur and Leon made faces. Morgana was probably just going to invite over Guinevere. Not that Guinevere was bad or anything—it was just, she was like a sister to Arthur. And she really was a sister to Leon.

So, bright and early Saturday morning, the two adolescents wished their father farewell as the car drove down the pavement.

Three hours later, the boys arrived. Morgana had promptly locked herself in her room, not wanting to hear "who was more stoked about the next four days," or "who could jump off the banister of the second floor balcony and not die." Arthur tried to protest that that was being racist _—"It's masculist, you idiot!"_ —when he heard a few rooms away: "Dude, I could so beat you in a wrestling match!

Arthur nearly facepalmed. "I see your point, Morgana." With that, her door slammed shut.

The day passed fairly quickly. The young men had crowded around the television in the living room, grabbing chairs, blankets, and pillows, making the once tidy room now a messy nest of coziness. Their words exactly. Football was a main topic of discussion, as well as a dominant show on the blaring television. It grew dark eventually, and Arthur was glad that there had been none—well, few—casualties. He had long since lost track of time when he noticed Morgana lurking around the first floor; she had called dibs on the second floor.

"What are you doing?"

Morgana looked amused as she took in the messy-haired blonde, who had just broken away from a very intense debate over who was better: Superman or Batman. "Waiting for my guests," she replied vaguely. Arthur frowned slightly. "Oh, don't worry," she teased. "It's only Gwen and this other boy—"

"A boy?" Arthur questioned immediately, eyebrows raised and a tone much like something their father would have. His sister rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't worry. He's harmless. And he's also not interested."

"Not interested." Arthur repeated skeptically and curiously. He heard calls from the living room for him to come see something amazing (which it probably wasn't) but he felt a wave of protectiveness towards his sister. He wasn't going to let some guy that he didn't know sleepover at their house!

Then there was a knock at the door, and Morgana ran so quickly she seemed to vanish into thin air.

Arthur followed her to the door, despite the protests from the nest. Morgana opened the door, and Arthur's eyes flowed right past Gwen and straight to—

Arthur's jaw dropped. "Is that—?"

"Hello, Gwen. Merlin," Morgana greeted warmly.

That right there was why Arthur was angry, to say the least.


	2. The Kiss

**Hey guys! So sorry for not updating! I haven't been able to get to my computer this weekend. It's been killing me D: But thanks so much for following me or this story, and I'm here now! Without further ado, I give you chapter two! (so sorry that rhymed)**

 **Disclaimer: none of the characters/story are mine. I'm just a nerd with too much free time :/**

 **~palmtreedragons out**

* * *

It was only a few days before break when it happened.

Merlin was walking to third period. It was a bright, sunny, perfect day. Merlin, quietly trudging through the hall, was heading to the water fountain outside his class; Gwen always walked right past it, and with only one class together, the pair were desperate for any interaction, whether it be sitting side by side at lunch or a wave to each other in the hall.

Only she wasn't at the fountain. She was across the hall, at none other than Prat-dragon's locker.

Arthur was the biggest, stupidest, git-headed-est guy on campus, and Merlin couldn't stand the sight of him. He was dating a new girl practically every other week, and he didn't seem to care about them after he had eyes for the next one. Merlin knew practically everything about him—well, everyone did. He was practically a celebrity—but Merlin was a wallflower. He would be shocked if Arthur even knew his name.

Merlin's feet continued to trudge, and most people were already in class by now, save a handful. The hallways were practically empty as the bell rang. Merlin could care less whether he was late or not; he was too busy observing what his friend was doing with that ass. But when he saw Gwen smile shyly, and Arthur lean in too close—

Merlin didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what _Gwen_ was doing. They both hated Arthur. And here she was, about to kiss him.

And then there Merlin was, pushing Gwen out of the way, about to tell that dollop-head off, when he suddenly felt lips on his.

It lasted a mino-second, and, luckily, no one was around, but—

No.

Just. . . . No.

No, no, no, no, no, no— _hell_ no.

But it had happened. Gwen saw it, and Arthur was staring at Merlin, and Merlin was staring dumbly back. Without another word, he took Gwen's wrist and ran. Merlin ran and wouldn't stop till they were three halls away.

* * *

"What the heck was that?" Gwen whispered furiously. It was as if they both, in that terrifying moment, simultaneously decided class was the last thing on their mind.

"I-I wanted to-to tell him off. . . ." Merlin stammered, staring horrified at his friend.

"For what? Kissing me? Then why'd you kiss him?"

"I didn't mean to!" Merlin ran a hand nervously through his hair. _Oh, God, what have I gotten into?_

What Gwen said next made his blood run cold. "Well, it sure looked like you did. The way you came in and stared and ran off. . . ."

"I did _not_ want to kiss him," Merlin repeated, panic creeping into his voice. What should he care? It's not like they had any classes, or were friends, or. . . . Merlin didn't even think they passed each other in the halls. And it wasn't like Arthur would go around telling people what Merlin did.

That helped calm him a great deal, as did Gwen. He shouldn't be bothered by this. It wasn't like the world was ending.

 _But why_ _did it feel like it was_.

* * *

No one had told anyone. Not a single word had gotten out about the kiss. Gwen and Merlin hadn't even told Morgana, the third in their three musketeers. It was like a great weight was lifted off Merlin's chest. The world kept spinning. Life moved on.

When Morgana invited Merlin over to her house for the first time for spring break, he thought it a great idea. At least, it was better than sulking and stressing out over the weekend about bloody Arthur.

At eight o' clock sharp, Merlin strode up to Morgana's grand house. He didn't really know that much about Morgana, now that he thought about it; he knew her family was rich, she had a brother, and her father was away a lot, but he mainly knew her because Gwen knew her.

And Gwen was on the doorstep, already knocking. "Gwen?" Merlin called out. Gwen turned, her face going white.

"Merlin?" she stage-whispered, as if someone were right on the other side of the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," Merlin said defensively. He had just as much right as she did to be here.

But he knew that look. It was pity and panic—both aimed towards him. "What is it?"

"Her brother's home," she hissed, as if that explained everything.

"Who's her brother?"

Then the door opened. Merlin, utterly confused, turned to great Morgana.

"Hello, Gwen. Merlin," the hostess said with a smile. Then Merlin saw the blond standing behind her, looking just as shell-shocked and slack-jawed as he did.

 _Well, shit._


	3. This Means War!

**Spent the whole day writing up this chapter because I was so anxious to update :D**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

"What?" Morgana asked, dubiously staring between her friend and her brother. "You two look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Nothing." Merlin beat Arthur to speaking by a second. Morgana shrugged and turned away, gesturing for her guests to follow her.

"Remember, Arthur," Morgan called from halfway up the stairs, Gwen and Merlin in tow. The latter looked on the brink of a heart attack. "You and your goons stay down here. We called dibs on the second floor." Merlin kept his head down as he climbed the wooden stairs. Half his mind couldn't to get to Morgana's room quick enough. The other half was screaming for the front door.

 _Maybe I can say I'm not feeling well. No, that would never work; Morgana would just raid the medicine cabinet. I couldn't play the homesick card without looking like a total loser. . . ._

 _Great. Just great. I'm stuck with bloody Arthur for the next four days._

* * *

Morgana couldn't understand why Merlin wouldn't move from his spot on her rug, surrounded by—no, _completely covered_ by—every spare pillow and blanket on the second floor. Which was a ton. Merlin claimed he was very comfortable. So there Merlin remained, in his turtle shell, half-listening to his friend's gossip.

"What about Lancelot?" Morgana asked Gwen, bent on playing matchmaker. "I hear he's on the football team."

"Every guy down there is on the football team," Gwen rebuffed. She had already shot down Gwaine, and refused to play Morgana's game of "Who do you think would be a better kisser?"

"What about Percival?"

"He's not really my type." _Oh, so Gwaine and Percival aren't your type, but Arthur is?_ Merlin shouldn't feel betrayed. In fact, he didn't feel betrayed at all. He only felt confused. How Gwen had almost kissed Arthur was mind-boggling. How Merlin wound up kissing him instead was even harder to comprehend.

After nearly an hour of small talk and a few minutes of silence, Merlin could hear the bed creak as someone got up. That someone then came crashing down one Merlin's cocoon of darkness. Merlin grunted and squirmed, but his feet were tangled in a throw blanket, and his right hand was stuck under an old, worn pillow.

"This is boring," Morgana announced from somewhere above Merlin's left knee. "Gwen, you and I are going to get a movie from the hall. Merlin, go get us popcorn. If it stays this quiet and awkward for much longer, I think I'll die." The overwhelming pressure from above was lifted, and Merlin could breathe once more. The sound of feet trailing away told him he was alone.

 _Either I stay here and Morgana will certainly know something's wrong and force the truth out of me, or I can haul myself off the ground and get food._ With a sigh, Merlin crawled out of the mountain of pillows. He shivered at the coldness of the room. Eyeing up the pile, he took the softest looking blanket, wrapped it around his torso, and trekked out the door.

That's when a catastrophe happened. Well, _catastrophe_ would be a bit of an exaggeration. He only slipped on the wooden flooring outside of Morgana's bedroom and fell with a thud. But he would have a nasty bruise on his elbow later.

* * *

The Pendragon's house was like a maze. The front door led off to the kitchen and a living room—the very one the Knights were in—and the stairs to the second floor. Next to the stairs was Morgana's room, and a bit of a way's down was Arthur's. Other than that, Merlin had no idea where anything was. Luckily, he didn't need much more.

With a death-grip on the banister for fear of his socks trying to murder him once more, Merlin padded down towards the kitchen. He could hear shouting and rough-housing from the other side of the kitchen wall, where Arthur and his buddies were. If he was lucky and fast, he wouldn't run into Arthur or any of them.

Making popcorn was like a guessing game, trying to find what went where. Merlin still couldn't find the popcorn, but he found the microwave and managed to locate a large bowl. Blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, Merlin reached for a top cabinet; it was too high for him, even on his tiptoes. He blindly rummaged through it with the tips of his fingers for the small packet of popcorn kernels. He heard the door open behind him.

"Hey, where's your popcorn?" Merlin asked. It was probably Gwen, seeing why he was taking so long.

"Top shelf." Merlin nearly choked. Whirling around, he saw none other than the guy he was trying so hard to avoid.

"Arthur," Merlin breathed, more shocked than anything. Was he going to be angry Merlin was in his house? Was he going to ask why Merlin was spying on Gwen and him? Did he think Merlin kissed him on purpose?

Instead, Arthur walked to the fridge and opened the door. The sudden gust of cold air caused Merlin to tug the light pink blanket closer around himself. "Nice socks."

Merlin, stunned, looked at his feet. Why of all days did he pick the one pair of socks he had with pineapples on them?

Merlin couldn't think of anything to say. Rather than saying anything and making a fool of himself, he turned and picked up one of the popcorn packets—he had to jump for them, much to his embarrassment. Silently, he made his way over to the microwave and busied himself with making the snack. Arthur, equally quiet, turned away from the fridge with an armful of sodas, kicked the door closed, and set the drinks on the nearby counter. He then opened the very cabinet Merlin was just at. Merlin tried to avert his eyes as the hem of Arthur's shirt rode up.

"Did you take the last popcorn packet?" Arthur asked. Merlin, anxious enough when it came to talking to people, looked from the man in front of him, to the almost-done popcorn, and back. "I guess so."

Arthur frowned. Looking disappointed, he took up the sodas and returned to the living room. Merlin banged his head slowly on the fridge door. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. . . ._

Pouring the finished popcorn into the large bowl, the kitchen door opened once more. This time, it really was Gwen, followed by Morgana.

"There you are! See, Gwen, I told you he didn't get lost." Before Gwen could respond, a loud thud could be heard from the living room. The door burst open, and Merlin saw the one named Gwaine barrel in.

"What do mean, there's no more popcorn?" Gwaine all but shouted. The rest of the rowdy teenagers followed, most looking disgruntled. "Merlin's got a bowl right there!"

"It's ours," Morgana said defiantly, as if daring one of them to take it from them.

"C'mon," Gwaine whined. "There's only three of you, and five of us! We need to eat more food than you do." Not many of the Knights looked like they agreed with their friend's point, but they all seemed to take his side, no matter how stupid his point was. Merlin stayed quiet; he had the topic of the argument in his hands, and he didn't really want to be tackled by a football player.

"Then you should have thought about getting popcorn before us," Morgana said airily, gesturing for her friends to follow her out the door.

"This isn't over _! You've just declared war!_ " Gwaine shouted at the closing door. Morgana, Gwen and Merlin hadn't thought it more than an empty threat. Boy, were they wrong.

* * *

 **A little bit of foreshadowing . . . *evil laughter***

 **Big shout out to my buddy mapletreedragons! She's the mastermind behind these stories, and she has one of her own, so check it out! Thanks everyone for all the reviews and follows and favorites, and I'll see ya next time I post!**

 **P. S. I'm thinking about editing an old SPN story I wrote a while back. What do you guys think? If you want to see it, I'll post it and see where it goes from there. Bye for now!**


	4. Of Water Guns and Toothpaste

**I wish I had a good reason for not updating. Well, I guess that depends on if Netflix counts as a good excuse. . . . I sort of got sucked into a miniseries because of Sebastian Stan (whoops)**

 **Note: Blah blah not my characters or story blah blah**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

When Merlin awoke, he was starving. He was also on the floor.

Gwen and Morgana were fast asleep, both sharing the bed. Merlin turned, wincing at the stiffness in his next. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Merlin was about to yank the blankets off of him when the door opened with a bang.

Almost too quick for Merlin to comprehend in his current state, a blur of pajama clad teenagers rushed in with—were those water guns?!

Next thing Merlin knew, he was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind a blanket, which was becoming almost unnaturally heavy as it did almost nothing to keep Merlin dry. Morgana and Gwen were shrieking and shouting. As soon as it started, the water stopped, and footsteps and very manly giggling could be heard as they faded down the hall.

Merlin, soaked from his head to his toes, sprang from his soppy blankets on the floor. Before either of his friends could question, he was out the door.

* * *

The knights were outside, Merlin suspected, using a hose to refill for round two. Passing the living room, Merlin grabbed the first blanket he saw, and headed to the kitchen. Merlin looked in every cupboard, every pantry; anything he saw that the knights liked, he put in the blanket. Once done, Merlin hoisted the makeshift bag over his shoulder and headed back to Morgana's room.

Morgana and Gwen were already changed, and were wringing their hair out with towels when Merlin, still soaked, came in with a large sack, and hastily locked the door.

"What are you up to, Santa Claus?" Gwen asked. Merlin only grinned, dropping the bag on the floor and letting some of his findings fall out. Soon enough, the other two were wearing matching grins.

It was only a short while after when the knights returned, pounding on the door after finding it locked.

"Not cool!" Arthur shouted through the door. "Come on! At least give us something other than frozen broccoli!"

The three exchanged looks. Finally, Merlin picked up a pack of Oreos and headed to the door. After being careful when opening and closing the door—in case any of the knights wanted to charge in—Merlin heard the door lock, and he was left alone in a dimly lit hall with the knights.

"Here," Merlin announced, extending a hand. Arthur raised an eye at Merlin's still damp appearance, but silently took the package. Merlin thought vaguely that this would resemble an intense scene in some action movie. Except, the two sides wouldn't be trading Oreos with such seriousness.

The knights almost immediately hounded Arthur for one—maybe even two—cookies to eat. Merlin, once hearing the door unlock once more, opened it with caution. The knights didn't even notice.

Merlin, mostly hidden behind the door, could only grin as he watched the knights' faces take on a look of disgust. They turned on him, for he was laughing freely.

"Gotcha," was all Merlin could make out between peals of laughter as he waved a near empty tube of toothpaste at them. Before they could do anything like tackle him, Merlin closed and locked the door.


	5. I Just Wanted To Play Spy

**I BLAME NETFLIX! And tons of homework and assignments, but mostly Netflix. Thanks everyone who's stayed with me through this story. I love reading your comments, and it's great to know that so many people like my writing :D**

 **And for a reward, I give you 1.9K of Merthur.**

 **Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident. That was the reason why Merlin was frightened.

Merlin had already survived one night at the Pendragons, and the first day was coming to a close. The door to Morgana's bedroom remained locked—Merlin insisted on it—and they still had a monopoly of the house; they had raided the pantry, and had been successful.

And Merlin had pranked a bunch of angry football players. Twice. And the only thing they had done in return was lock every door and window leading outside on the first floor, and somehow managed to push a couch halfway up the only set of stairs, making it a hazard to travel from one story to another. Merlin knew they must be plotting his demise at this very moment, and Arthur was probably leading them.

Most of the day on the second story was spent watching Netflix or killing time on their phones. Merlin reconstructed his cocoon of darkness. (Well, almost reconstructed. Some of the blankets still weren't dry.) He only came out when the girls had forcefully removed him, dragging him to the window to start stage three on their masterplan. The living room window was right below Morgana's, and Morgana hatched the idea to play spy. That's what they had told Merlin. They just didn't tell him he was going to be the spy.

Five minutes later, Merlin found himself tied around the waist with a bit of rope Gwen found in a hall closet. The other end was tied to one of Morgana's bedposts. Merlin heaved open the window, sticking his head out the window. Looking down, Merlin's head spun as he saw the grass, still gray and dying from the slight chill that came with March. He gulped, stepping back, before managing to get his legs out the window. Sitting on the windowsill, Merlin turned around to see Gwen and Morgana, each holding the slack rope and giving him thumbs ups with their free hands. With a shuddering sigh, Merlin lowered himself out the window. When he was hanging from the windowsill with only his fingers, Merlin felt the rope go tense. _That isn't it, is it?_ He could barely hear the teenagers below them, mainly because they were blaring some music way too loudly.

Then Merlin heard the sound of wood snapping, and his stomach flew into his throat.

Merlin couldn't breathe for a terrifying, dizzying moment, and he couldn't understand why. Then he felt the dirt dig into his back and his hair, and he groaned. Did he really just fall out a two story window?

He could hear Morgana and Gwen, their voices frantic until they saw him sit up. He wished he could hear what they were saying over the ringing in his ears. Gathering his bearings, Merlin looked up to see Morgana and Gwen were no longer at the window. Even if they managed to get past the couch, whatever traps were set, and the knights, it would already be dark. The sky was getting dimmer and dimmer each minute, and to top it all off, Merlin's legs landed in a puddle, and were starting to get cold.

Stiffly shuffling towards the nearest door, Merlin tried it. But of course, it was locked. It was a solid five minutes Merlin stood at the door, knocking and shouting. In the end, Merlin was still locked outside, feeling and probably looking like a kicked puppy. Too tired to stand, Merlin slumped against the side of the house, a few feet away from the door as not to get hit by it when— _if_ —it opened. His socks were soaked, his back felt like it was on fire, and Merlin was done with this. With a stupid war with some stupid athletes and stupid Arthur. And he sure as hell wasn't playing spy again anytime soon.

Pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, Merlin's head slumped forward and he tried to get some sleep, waiting to be rescued.

* * *

Merlin was only half-conscious when he heard the door open and close. Honestly, he thought it was a dream. But when he heard the sound of a trash bag being thrown on the ground, the knob twisting uselessly, and muffled swearing as the knocking on the door started—well, Merlin was quite awake by then. "It's no use," Merlin said simply, not even bothering to get up.

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin. Squinting in the darkness, he made out the form. "Merlin?" Arthur asked incredulously. Merlin gave a weak smile, which he soon realized Arthur couldn't see.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?" Arthur took a seat on the ground, quite a bit away from Merlin. Merlin was sitting obscured in the shadows. Arthur probably couldn't even see him. Unlike Merlin, though, Arthur was sitting in a patch of yellow light, filtering out from the thinly curtained window. The light seemed to bring out the goldness of his hair, making it shine like a new coin. His entire silhouette was golds and darks, shadows streaking across his face, making his features sharp and far more noticeable. Merlin took in his appearance from the safety of the darkness. For all Arthur knew, Merlin could be looking at his hands or the ground, and not trying to match the unique blue shade of his eyes.

Merlin almost forgot he had been asked a question. "I . . . uh. . . . I sorta fell out Morgana's window. . . ."

Arthur seemed to nearly choke. "You—you fell out a _window_?" Merlin nodded, then mentally face palmed. _He still can't see me._

"Yeah. . . ." Merlin let his sentence trail off, because how were you suppose to explain something like that?

"Are you hurt?" The sentence threw Merlin off. _The_ Arthur Pendragon was asking if Merlin was okay. _I must've hit my head harder than I thought. What if this is all just a dream . . . ?_

Merlin refrained from shrugging once more. (Mental note: I need to start shrugging less.) "My back's a little sore. I think I'm okay."

Arthur shook his head slowly, as if dazed. Merlin nearly got lost in watching Arthur's shadow dance along the grass.

"This whole prank war thing has gotten really out of control."

"Yeah," Merlin said simply. He made another note to say "Yeah" less, too. A silence overfell the two.

"If you don't mind me asking," Arthur said finally, " _how on earth did you fall out a window?_ " Merlin was thankful the shadows hid his blush. In all honesty, he had begun to ask himself the same question.

"Morgana and Gwen, uh, they wanted to play spy."

"Let me guess: you were the spy?" Merlin, for the first time in a long while, laughed. Unfortunately his back protested, causing him to cut his laughter short. If Arthur heard the sharp intake of breathe Merlin took, he didn't let it show.

The silence that followed wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as the first one. Merlin looked upwards. He couldn't even see the stars. A gust of wind passed by, causing Merlin to shiver. He watched as Arthur's hair ruffled. "My legs are freezing. They landed in a puddle."

Arthur seemed a bit taken aback that Merlin had been the one to start up conversation. "Why don't you lay your legs out in the light?" Arthur suggested, scooting over on the dirt to make room for Merlin in the little square of light. Merlin tried to make his dismount smooth and effortless, but his spine was committing treason. He landed ungracefully on the edge of the light, closer to the door than Arthur. Merlin's shadow covered the other teenager; Merlin had half a mind to move just to see Arthur in the light again. He had to admit, it was a bit warmer in the light. Or maybe it was because he was so close to Arthur.

"Your head," Arthur said suddenly, eyes widening slightly. Merlin, confused, lifted his hand to his forehead. It came away red.

"How bad is it?" Merlin tried to quell the wave of panic.

"Not bad," Arthur said quickly. "I think you just have a cut there." Arthur moved closer to Merlin to examine the wound. Merlin could see Arthur's face from this close, even when it was cast in his shadow. Arthur lifted a hand, gingerly touching Merlin's right temple. Merlin winced. "Sorry." Arthur hastily apologized, putting his hand back at his side.

Merlin was left alone with his thoughts. Suddenly the silence seemed to squeeze out words before his brain could filter them. "About the thing at school—I mean, I didn't mean to—it was an accident, and—"

"What thing at school?" Arthur asked. Merlin was confused at first, but then he saw Arthur's small smile.

"Right." Merlin quickly caught on. "Nothing happened."

Merlin couldn't say why he felt somewhat disappointed. Arthur was willing to forget and move on. It was better than Merlin had even dreamed. But for some reason, Merlin had half-hoped that Arthur had thought about it as much as Merlin did. _Of course_ , Merlin thought. _To him, it was just another kiss. To me, it was my first._

* * *

Merlin stirred first. At first, he wasn't sure why he awoke, or why he was on the ground, or, most importantly, why he was laying side by side with Arthur. Quite close, actually. As memories of the crazy night came flooding forth, Merlin tried to sit up. His back had other plans.

 _Injuries are always worse the day after_ , a voice reminded Merlin. Like he needed any reminding at this point.

Then he heard it. Someone—no, a group of people—were calling his and Arthur's names. Arthur seemed to stir, too, quickly bolting upright. He looked around, just as confused as Merlin was moments ago, before realization hit.

"We're over here!" Arthur shouted, leaping to his feet. Merlin noticed for the first time that not only was there frost on the ground, but Arthur was wearing a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and bare feet. Somehow he didn't seem to mind the cold. _I wonder if people who regularly go outside get used to extreme weather._

Merlin propped himself up on his elbows—even that hurt. Arthur gave him a questioning look.

"Uh," Merlin started shyly. "Could you help me up?" Arthur's face told that if Merlin were not in pain, he would have laughed.

"Sure." Merlin grasped Arthur's forearm, and Arthur tugged back. As if used to the weight of one of his friends, and not the scrawny boy in front of him, Arthur tugged too hard, sending both of them stumbling. Arthur caught his footing, grabbing Merlin's arms to keep them both steady. Merlin couldn't help but look at the way half of Arthur's hair was sticking up wildly, almost comically.

Arthur quickly let go and stepped away as their very concerned friends rounded the corner.


	6. IN YOUR FACE, LOSER!

**Hey guys! Sat at my computer all day to write this! Hope you all like it!**

 **Note: Nope. The characters still aren't mine. D:**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

Merlin spent the rest of the day on the couch sulking. It wasn't like he wanted to be smothered or anything; Morgana and Gwen insisted.

The infamous prank war was over. Apparently, after Merlin's fall, Morgana and Gwen had tried and failed to descend the stairs, but the couch proved difficult. They had assumed Merlin decided to hang out with the knights. The knights thought vice versa, thinking Arthur was hatching some scheme upstairs. It wasn't until the morning when the girls finally conquered the stairs was it known that both were missing. Merlin only caught the end of it, but apparently the two women of the house had ranted and scorned till the high schoolers on the receiving end of their wrath were red in the face. Merlin couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it.

Though all "National Boundaries" as Gwaine put it were diminished, the teenagers remained in the living room, mainly because they couldn't get past the couch.

"How on earth did you get a couch up there in the first place? Scratch that— _why_ even put a couch up there?"

"Oh, I don't know, Morgana," Arthur drawled sarcastically. "Maybe we did it to prevent you from encroaching on our territory."

"Mighty big words. And if that's the case, you did a sucky job. We got down easily. It's getting back up that's the tricky part." Indeed it was. After these words had been spoken the first time, Merlin watched as the athletes tried and failed many times to climb the stairs. He was glad that he was couch-ridden, because it would have been mortifying to be peer pressured into giving it a go. Merlin had the upper arm strength of a toddler.

Somewhere around noon someone suggested a board game. Merlin knew that something just had to go wrong, and, oh, something went wrong indeed.

* * *

"I found an old _I Spy_ game. It's missing a few pieces, I think. . . . And the board."

"I've got _Twister_ , _Yahtzee_ , and _Uno_." Lancelot set down the said games on the coffee table with a thud. Everyone except Merlin—they insisted he stay off his feet, much to his protests—was raiding the downstairs closets.

"We haven't played any of these since we were kids," Arthur reminisced when they had first hatched the idea. Morgana smiled nostalgically. The dust covering everything proved his point.

"How about _Clue_?" Gwen asked, casting eyes around the room. A chorus of half-hearted mumbles went around the room. She frowned, setting the box down on the table, murmuring to herself, "I happen to like _Clue_."

Then Arthur, who had been gone for many minutes, entered, two beaten boxes in his arms. From Merlin's vantage point on the couch, he could only see the sides of the boxes: white, the logos long since faded off, the corners bent or torn or dented inward. Arthur's face had a grimy look, and his hair seemed coated with dust. He must've searched long and hard for those boxes. Merlin had the urge to wipe a smear of dirt from Arthur's cheek.

With a grand gesture, Arthur tossed the boxes on the table with a _thud_ , knocking off the rejected games. _Clue_ somehow landed in Merlin's lap. Everyone clustered to the table, anxious to see what Arthur was so impressed about. Merlin just leaned forward, the coffee table being only two feet away.

A sudden hush fell over the room. Eyes took in the almost-gone name on top of the identical boxes. All the game fanatics grinned, some even nodded. Arthur looked, as usual, very full of himself.

" _Monopoly_ it is."

* * *

Merlin sucked at _Monopoly_. He sucked at board games in general.

Five turns in, and Merlin couldn't understand how Arthur already owned half the board. Specifically, all the pricey properties, not the dirt ones at the beginning. The knights decided to play one game of _Monopoly_ , while the girls and Merlin played on the other. Unfortunately for Arthur, his friends mutinied, claiming there were too many people playing on the first board, and kicked him out. He was forced to join Gwen, Morgana, and Merlin. And now Merlin understood why they had called him "The King."

"I'll buy the boardwalk," Arthur announced haughtily, handing a fat stack of cash over to Morgana, who dealt the money. Arthur gladly took the property card. Morgana took up the die. She rolled a six and a two. Arthur let out a whoop, much to the confusion of his rivals. She landed on an unowned property; she didn't owe him anything.

"I landed on your property," he announced. Morgana frowned.

"Then pay up."

"I don't have to. If you don't call rent on your turn, you don't get payed." Arthur continued to grin. Morgana threw a hotel piece at him, but she obliged to the rule. Merlin had never finished a game of _Monopoly_ before. The rules to him were fuzzy, and every household seemed to have their own variations of the rules. Merlin made a mental note to remember that rule. Unfortunately, he only owned a train station.

It was Gwen's turn; she rolled and landed on Arthur's property.

"Pay up." Gwen rolled her eyes. One of the reasons Arthur had over five-thousand dollars was because he was relentless. He always called rent, and somehow always managed to go undetected on other people's properties.

Merlin, his turn finally come, rolled the die.

He got a total of seven, and landed one none other than the boardwalk, one of the most expensive properties on the board. Merlin glanced down at his fifteen dollars. _I can't even mortgage anything. I've just lost in six turns_. Gwen and Morgana had begun an intense conversation about something that went right over Merlin's head. Before Merlin could sheepishly look at Arthur and say "I'm broke," Arthur picked up the die and rolled. Merlin blinked. Arthur continued on with his turn. Morgana and Gwen weren't even paying attention. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. _Arthur forgot. He forgot and now I have a second chance_. At the end of Arthur's turn, Merlin caught the smirk Arthur was trying to hide as Morgana rolled the die, clearly forgetting once again to call rent. In the midst of Morgana's turn—Merlin thought she had bought something, but couldn't be sure—Arthur and Merlin's eyes met. Merlin almost instinctively looked away, a bad habit he had formed a few years back. But their eyes remained locked, so Merlin couldn't miss Arthur's wink.

* * *

To only Merlin was it obvious that Arthur deliberately ignored when Merlin landed on his properties. He was a hound to everyone but Merlin. Merlin had tried to repay him by not calling rent multiple times, but every time Arthur found himself on one of Merlin's few spots, the money was quickly exchanged. _He's blatantly cheating just to give me a chance._

Half of Merlin thought it was just Arthur being nice— _since when did Merlin think Arthur_ could _be nice?_ Another seemed lost in an endless loop of last night. _Arthur's concern for Merlin, who was barely more than a stranger, Arthur's golden hair, his slight smirk that never left his face—_

"Merlin, it's your turn." If any of them saw his blush, no one commented. Merlin thought he was doing pretty well, though this was the longest he's ever played a single game of _Monopoly_. Soon, Merlin thought it had been a few hours, but he couldn't be sure, the game ended when no one could scrounge up enough money to pay Arthur. Shortly after they had declared the game over, a loud shout came from a few feet away. Merlin almost completely forgot there was another, louder, more intense game going on. It seemed as if Gwaine had just acquired a monopoly on one section he had been trying to get the whole game. Merlin watched, half amused, half horrified as Gwaine grabbed a handful of money from the bank and stuffed it into Lancelot's mouth. " _IN YOUR FACE, LOSER!_ "

* * *

After thing had been settled—meaning Gwaine had been momentarily restrained and Lancelot had spit out any money that had caused him to choke—Merlin found himself shuffling towards the kitchen. Gwen and Morgana were still in deep conversation (whenever Merlin asked, they simply replied "Girl stuff") and Arthur was watching his friends play like a hawk. Everyone still seemed hyper and social. Merlin just wanted something to eat.

That's when a crisis happened. Not an I-slipped-in-my-socks-and-got-a-bruise crisis. An actual crisis. No one could get upstairs. Merlin could live without his pajamas or his toothbrush for a couple of days, _but they still had their stash of goodies up there_. Merlin nearly fainted when he opened the fridge and found only vegetables, condiments, and milk.

With a sigh, Merlin closed the refrigerator and leaned against the door. Against his sore back, the chill of the metal door felt kind of good. Merlin thought he seemed pretty okay for falling out a window. Maybe it was because the cold weather acted sort of like an ice pack, or maybe it was because he never really thought about it. He had other thoughts on his mind.

As if on cue, the kitchen door opened and Arthur came in. "We're out of food. Good food, that is. If you're into celery and milk, you're in luck."

Arthur frowned, as if thinking about the problem for the first time. Merlin tried to hide his wince as he stood. It was a bit awkward sitting on the floor in the middle of a conversation. Once standing, Merlin thought he might have been taking the cool metal for granted.

"Your back's still sore?" Arthur asked, frown still intact. It jarred Merlin as he realized Arthur was without his usual smirk. Merlin found himself nodding. Arthur took a few steps forward. "Let me see."

Merlin wasn't sure what he thought those words meant, besides the obvious. But suddenly his brain registered that Arthur took a step behind him and lifted the hem of Merlin's shirt. _Quit being weird, Merlin. This is what guys do. It's not like—well, it's not like he kissed you. But, he already did. Well,_ I _kissed_ him _. . . ._

Arthur took a step back, dropping Merlin's shirt. "There's no cuts, but that's a wicked bruise. It should go away eventually, though." Merlin only nodded. Arthur's eyes roamed the kitchen, almost disappointed that there wasn't any good food.

"Thanks." Arthur's eyes snapped back to Merlin, curious.

"For what?"

Merlin shrugged, suddenly feeling stupid for some reason. He didn't _need_ to thank Arthur for anything. "I guess, well, cheating for me."

Arthur's smirk returned. "Cheating? Who ever said I cheated? You're just really awful at _Monopoly_." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Is this what you always do?" Merlin questioned. Arthur's brows furrowed, his lips pouting ever so slightly. It wasn't like Merlin was _looking_ or anything, he was just observing. "Pretend like things don't happen?" Arthur seemed to take a minute to comprehend what Merlin was insinuating.

 _"_ _What thing at school?"_

 _"_ _Right. Nothing happened."_

Arthur shrugged. "I guess I just do that with you. Not that we've had many encounters." Merlin felt even more stupid for bringing up the topic, for forcing themselves into an awkward situation.

"Well, then, you didn't cheat. We can both forget about the. . . ." Merlin trailed off, searching for the right word. His eyes traveled to his feet.

"Who said I forgot?" Merlin's eyes looked upwards. Arthur was leaning against a counter, the definition of at ease. His fists were loose and shoved in his pockets, and that streak of dirt was still on his cheek. Merlin thought of last night, how the near constant throbbing in his back was almost a reminder, proof that this wasn't just another thing that could be swept under the rug. Merlin wasn't sure how he should feel now that Arthur admitted the kiss actually happened. Hopeful? Embarrassed? His stomach was a knot of nerves.

In that moment, Merlin finally admitted it. He had a crush on Arthur. Just a few days ago he couldn't stand him, but now . . . Merlin wasn't sure what he felt. He'd never been in love. _What are the chances that he likes you_ that way _?_ A voice accused. _And even if he does, you're kids. What are the chances that this thing lasts?_

 _Well_ , a more confident voice reasoned, _it's now or never._

"Arthur," Merlin started. He cleared his throat before trying again. "I . . . I like you, okay? And—"

The door suddenly opened. "Code red!" Gwaine all but screamed. "All the food we like to eat's upstairs! We've gotta get up there!" As soon as Gwaine had appeared, he disappeared. Arthur was gone, too.


	7. Truth or Dare?

**Has it really been six days? Wow. I sort of lost track of time. And I was having computer troubles. I'm sorry it took so long, but here is the final chapter. I might add a prologue, but I don't know yet. I know, I know, I'm a bit sad too. But I hope you guys really enjoy this, and I hope you guys stick around for future fics! I already have a few in mind ;)**

 **No, the story and characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them.**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Merlin was a complete idiot. A total dunce.

Merlin was not only stupid, but he was in shock. Since he was a child, Merlin had an awful tendency to blurt out things before he comprehended he was even saying them. His words would either get fumbled and quick and messy and his face and ears would get pink, or his words would just come out. Merlin sometimes wouldn't even know what he was speaking. He just didn't think his words would get him here.

 _He just blatantly told Arthur he liked him_. Sure, Merlin liked Arthur—but that didn't mean Arthur had to know. And now he did, and now Arthur was gone, and now Merlin was standing stupidly against the fridge, trying to think how he could screw things up this much. At least its's Monday. And already noon. Merlin wouldn't have to stay in this house much longer. _It's just one more night. One more night, and I'm rid of Prat-dragon._

Not wanting to face his peers yet not wanting to be hunted down and interrogated on his sudden moodiness, Merlin reluctantly shuffled out the door. He was amused when he saw that only Gwaine was trying to get past the couch on the stairs, probably because he was hungry. Then again, Gwaine was always hungry. The rest of the lot were crowded at the door, dressing themselves in jackets and shoes. When Gwen saw Merlin, her eyes lit up. "We're going to the movies," she had announced when Merlin got close.

"What are we seeing?" _Okay. Movies are good. In movies no one talks, or even looks at you, for a few hours. Perfect way to kill time._

Gwen's eyes traveled to the bunch of boys, to Morgana, then back. "Well, Morgana and I were going to see this one movie. I don't know what they're going to see." Lancelot, overhearing the conversation, turned and gave a taunting grin.

"They're going to see some cheesy romcom. Gwen, quite trying to suck poor Merlin into watching that junk. He's obviously going to the one we pick." Gwen made a face at him, before going off in Morgana's direction.

"But . . . I don't have shoes or my jacket. They're both upstairs." It was a feeble excuse, but maybe it would at least by him some time. _Some time for what, though?_ Arthur, as if for the first time noticing Merlin was there, tossed the said articles of clothing at Merlin.

"I found some extras for you already." Without another word, Arthur turned back to his friends.

Part of Merlin's stomach suddenly sank. So much for avoiding Arthur.

* * *

They took two cars. Merlin was, of course, shoved in the one car with Gwen and Morgana. Tried as he might, Merlin couldn't keep up conversation with them. He wound up staring out the window the whole ride.

But once they were there, Merlin was one of the guys. The two girls paid for tickets and were in the theatre in a flash. Merlin was stuck outside with the rowdy bunch, mutely waiting as they argued over whether they would see an action or a horror movie. Neither would have been Merlin's pick.

After finally settling the debate—the ticket clerk looking just as exhausted as Merlin—they headed indoors to the movie. Merlin silently followed. Each boy handed Merlin their tickets, which Merlin shoved in his pocket, just for safekeeping. He didn't mind holding onto them. Just before the door, Arthur suddenly stopped.

"We forgot the candy in the car," he announced. All but Arthur, Merlin and Gwaine had already entered. Gwaine groaned.

"You guys don't buy candy at the movies?" Merlin asked curiously.

Gwaine looked incredulous. "Movie theatres are way too expensive. We always smuggle in a bag of our own stuff—a lot cheaper, a lot more exciting." With a grin like that, you would think Gwaine was comparing smuggling candy to skydiving.

Arthur turned to Merlin, that irritable smirk on his face. "You thought we were going to see a movie and not have any candy?" Merlin couldn't really defend himself. He didn't know what the Pendragon's did when they went to the movies.

All Merlin could do was shrug. "I can go get it for you guys."

Merlin held out his hand for the car keys. Arthur's hands remained in his pockets. "I'll go with you."

Merlin couldn't think of a rational explanation as to why Arthur would volunteer to do something with Merlin. Gwaine quickly disappeared behind the large door, and Merlin and Arthur were once again alone.

The walk back to the car was infuriatingly silent. Merlin hated when it was silent; his thoughts ran wild and he could never calm his mind. _Did Arthur volunteer on purpose? Did he want to talk to Merlin? Was he just being a good person, no wanting Merlin to walk alone?_ Maybe Arthur didn't even know the crisis that was happening inside Merlin's head. Merlin said he _liked_ him. He never said "love." Merlin hoped this was the case. Then they could just move on. _Like how you moved on from the kiss?_

Once they got to the car, Arthur fished in his pocket for the keys. Reaching into the back seat, Arthur obtained the bag and closed the door, locking the car. The walk back was almost worse, because Arthur decided to start talking.

"So. . . ." Arthur started.

Merlin looked at Arthur, before quickly looking away. Merlin was the worst at having conversations with people he didn't know. Well, he knew Arthur, sort of, but not that well. Merlin couldn't think of a reply. Whether Arthur took that as a sign of awkwardness or that Merlin didn't want to talk, Merlin didn't know. They both fell silent.

When they got to the point where you turn in tickets, Arthur extended a hand to Merlin, who reached into his pocket. Eyes wide, Merlin looked down to see the tips of his fingers protruding from a hole in Arthur's old jacket's pocket. Arthur, eyes equally wide, looked helplessly between Merlin and the worker.

"I guess we'll have to buy new ones," Merlin stated, almost guiltily. Arthur nodded. Then it was Arthur whose eyes went wide. He patted down his jacket pockets, the pockets of his jeans— Arthur's head flew up to face Merlin.

"You don't have any cash, do you?"

"Nope," Arthur sighed, throwing his head back.

"Great," Merlin muttered, "we're locked out."

* * *

After ten minutes, Arthur angrily shoved his phone in his jacket pocket. "No one's answering my calls."

"Did you try Gwen and Morgana?"

"Twice."

They were kindly ushered out of the theatre _—"If you ain't buyin' nothin', kid, get out."—_ and were now sitting on a bench outside the entrance. Merlin's feet were killing him; they had decided to ride out the next hour or two in the car, only to find that they had locked the keys inside.

"We'll deal with that later," Arthur had said. Merlin suspected Arthur knew that if he didn't step back now, he would blow his top off.

Merlin was only tired. The past few nights Merlin had gotten little to no sleep between the prank war and the couch on the stairs and such, and after walking the distance between the theatre and the car three times now, Merlin's feet were killing him—and he wasn't even wearing his own shoes. Arthur's old sneakers were too wide for Merlin's feet, too close at his toes. But it was better than nothing.

Merlin didn't mind borrowing Arthur's jacket, though. It was soft and thick, and was obviously something Arthur hadn't worn in at least a year. The zipper stuck when it got four inches from the top, leaving just enough space for the chilly air to blow through. Merlin wrapped the sides of the jacket closer around him. It smelt familiar. It smelt like Arthur, that scent Merlin couldn't quite describe. It was just something over the past few days he had come to accept. Arthur was next to him, quiet and cold and sulking. His smirk was most definitely gone now, and the wind ruffled what little hair was peeking out from the front of Arthur's hood. Merlin wished he had a hood; the biting air was making the hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stand on end. It was almost eerie how no one was outside. They hadn't seen anyone since they came out, though most people wouldn't see a movie at lunch, Merlin supposed. It was too quiet for Merlin. All that could be heard was the whistling wind.

"Truth or dare?" The voice was like a gunshot in the silence. Arthur seemed as if he almost didn't hear it. He turned to face Merlin.

"What?"

"Truth or dare?" Merlin asked again.

Arthur blinked. "Uh . . . dare?"

Merlin thought hard. He wasn't too good at making dares. "Run to that tree and back."

"That's all?"

Merlin shrugged. (He was still doing a lot of shrugging.) "I guess so."

Arthur was to the tree across the street and back in a flash, only slightly out of breath when he returned. At least he didn't seem so angry anymore. "Truth or dare?" he asked.

"Truth." Yes, Merlin was the lame kid who always picked truth.

"Did you mean what you said in the kitchen?"

Every muscle in Merlin's body went tense. "When?" Merlin knew when.

"You know," Arthur prodded. Merlin kept his eyes on a leaf a few feet away. He watched it as it slowly fluttered on the ground, moving inch by inch.

"Yeah," Merlin said finally. "Yeah, I did."

Arthur was silent, and Merlin couldn't come to care. He felt almost detached, like he was watching this from someone else's eyes. He'd been such a ball of frayed nerves lately, you'd think this would be when Merlin would have a heart attack. Then Arthur said the most unexpected thing in the history of unexpected things.

"Good."

Merlin found himself looking at Arthur. How strange it was that four days ago he hated the guy. Now. . . .

"We've only got one more day until my father gets home," Arthur stated dully. "Then we go back to school a few days later."

 _School_. Arthur was practically a king there. Most people wouldn't even know who Merlin was. Arthur didn't even know Merlin until—well, until Merlin kissed him. The idea of what people would think at school . . . it was almost terrifying. It was more shocking, though, that Arthur thought nothing of it. Being with Merlin could throw his social status down the drain. But Arthur didn't seem to care.

Well, Merlin didn't have much to lose when it came to popularity. "Yeah. I guess so."

Another silence fell, not an awkward silence, but a one where neither felt as if they had anything worth saying. "Truth or dare?" Merlin asked once more.

Arthur's smirk returned. "Truth."

"Do you love me?" Arthur cautiously reached over and took Merlin's hand. Merlin let him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

* * *

 **Guys, I can't thank you enough for sticking through this with me! Please leave all critiques, criticisms, reviews, comments, et cetera for me! I love reading what you all have to say, and I love pointers for future writing. I plan to update new stories soon. I couldn't have imagined how many people have read my stories! Thanks once again—I'll shut up now. :D**

 **Bye for now!**


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